In Sylvan Shadows

by R. A. Salvatore

  Another groan came from a goblin dying in the shadows, and another shriek split the air from somewhere in the unseen distance.

  Cadderly ran on, circling the humanoids still hacking at the fallen tree. He wanted to find a hole and hide in it, but he knew that to stop moving meant death.

  He crossed through a tight copse of duskwood trees—the duskwood tangle that he and the others had avoided on their way to Syldritch Trea, he assumed—and came into a small field of chest-high blueberry bushes, dotted by occasional trees. Suddenly the fight was all around him.

  At the tree line across the field, a force of goblinoids tried to penetrate the stiff defense of a group of elf archers, and in several places combatants rolled around in the blueberry bushes, all together hidden from Cadderly’s view. He heard them, though, and saw the bushes tremble with their vicious struggles.

  Cadderly worked his way through the brambles, went down a slope, and came around to the backside of a hill. There he froze, stunned by yet another sight.

  “Great Deneir,” the stunned young priest muttered, hardly conscious that he had spoken.

  Cadderly had seen ogres before, and had nearly swooned at the size of the huge monsters. But when he saw his first giant, nearly twice the height of an ogre, and he would guess ten times an ogre’s weight, Cadderly, standing in its shadow, felt puny indeed.

  Fortunately, the giant’s back was to Cadderly and the creature was busy gathering rocks, probably to throw at the elves in the tree line. Cadderly would have been wise to walk past, but he reacted out of terror.

  He fired a dart into the giant’s backside.

  “Hey!” the monster roared, rubbing its burning buttocks and turning around.

  Cadderly, having realized his drastic error, had already taken flight and turned just once to fire another dart. That one caught the monster squarely in the chest, but the giant hardly flinched at the ensuing explosion.

  The priest put his head down and sprinted for the safety of the trees, hoping that no elf would mistake him for an orc and shoot him down. He didn’t look back again at the giant, guessing correctly that it had taken up the chase.

  The giant laughed stupidly, surely thinking the human an easy catch, but its expression changed considerably when the two dwarf brothers popped up from the bushes beside it. One sliced into the back of the monster’s hamstring with an axe, and the other crushed the giant’s kneecap with a club.

  The behemoth veered and tumbled down, and the Bouldershoulders were atop it before it ever stopped bouncing.

  “Nice high ground to make a stand,” Ivan remarked to Pikel, burying his axe into the giant’s neck.

  “Oo oi!” Pikel heartily agreed, striking the giant on the back of the skull with his tree-trunk club.

  “Was that Cadderly that came running by?” Ivan asked. Pikel looked to the dark trees and nodded.

  “Good bait, that one!” Ivan roared.

  The conversation ended when a group of orogs crashed through the brush and charged at the exposed dwarves.

  A blinding flash ripped through the shadows. Cadderly heard several goblins squeal then he spotted the source of the lightning bolt, a familiar and welcome face.

  “Tintagel!” he called, rushing to the elf wizard’s side.

  “Well met, young priest!” the blue-eyed elf replied sincerely. “Have you seen Elbereth?”

  Cadderly shook his head. “I just came onto the field,” he explained. “Dorigen is down.” He displayed the rings he had taken from the wizard and the wand sticking from under his belt. “Might these be of—?”

  “Down!” Tintagel cried, pushing Cadderly aside as a spear narrowly missed them both.

  The elf threw out one hand and uttered a spell. Magical bolts of energy erupted from his fingertips, swerving unerringly through the trees and diving behind one large trunk. Out the other side fell a dead bugbear, its hairy body singed in several places from the magical attack.

  “Elbereth,” the wizard said again to Cadderly. “I must get to him, for it is said that he battles Ragnor!”

  “He does,” said a dryad’s melodic voice to the side.

  “Where are they?” Cadderly demanded, moving toward Hammadeen.

  The dryad shied back against the tree, and Cadderly suspected that she meant to vanish.

  “Do not go, I beg,” the young scholar pleaded, mellowing his voice so as not to frighten the skittish creature. “You must tell us, Hammadeen. The fate of Shilmista rests in your hands.”

  Hammadeen did not reply or move, and Cadderly had to look hard to sort her out from the tree bark.

  “Coward!” Cadderly growled at her. “You claim to be a friend of the forest, but you will do nothing in its time of need?”

  He closed his eyes, concentrating on the tree hiding the dryad. Strange and marvelous emotions came over him as he attuned his senses to that tree, and he recognized the paths the tree had opened for Hammadeen’s escape.

  “No!” Cadderly growled, reaching for the tree with his thoughts.

  To Cadderly’s amazement, the dryad reappeared, looking back at the tree as though it had somehow betrayed her.

  “They fight in the grove of bluetops, to the southwest, and not so far,” the dryad said to Tintagel. “Do you know the place?”

  “I do,” Tintagel replied, eyeing Cadderly sidelong. “What did you do?” he asked after the skittish dryad had fled.

  Cadderly stood dumbfounded, having no idea how he might reply.

  The elf wizard, so very familiar with the forest, his home, conjured an image of the bluetop grove and recalled the words of another spell.

  “Watch over me,” he said to Cadderly, and the young scholar nodded, knowing the wizard would be vulnerable while casting. Cadderly took one of the two remaining darts from his bandoleer and cocked his crossbow.

  A door of shimmering light, similar to the one Cadderly had seen Dorigen step through, appeared in front of Tintagel. Cadderly heard a familiar rustle as another nearby bugbear heaved a spear.

  The young scholar spun around, picked out the target crouching in some bushes, and fired, blasting the monster right out the back side of the brush. There was no joy in Cadderly, and his satisfaction was soon lost, for when he turned back, he found Tintagel slumped, the spear buried deep in his side.

  Cadderly cried out to him, grabbed the elf close, and having nowhere else to go, leaned forward, taking them both through the shimmering door.

  The giant groaned loudly, and Pikel broke away from his fight with an orog just long enough to smack the fallen behemoth on the back of the head. Seeing its opponent diverted, the orog tried to leap up onto the giant’s back. Pikel’s club caught it in midflight, dropping it back to the ground some distance away in a writhing heap.

  The dwarves fought back to back, as they had atop the dead ogre in Dorigen’s camp. Only the dwarves were even higher, standing taller than the orogs they battled, and the creatures had a considerable climb in trying to get at their enemies. Half the orog band of ten lay dead beside the giant, and not one of them had gotten close to standing toe-to-toe with the dwarves.

  The brothers Bouldershoulder were truly enjoying themselves.

  A commotion from the tree line made both dwarf and orog glance to the side. Out came Danica, running like the wind, a mixed group of orcs, goblins, and bugbears close behind her. Two of the orogs broke away from their fight with the dwarves and moved to cut her off.

  An arrow got one in the chest, a second arrow thudding in a heartbeat later, just an inch from the first. The remaining orog made the mistake of looking to the side, to the elf maiden in the shadows of the tree line.

  Feet first, Danica soared through the air, connecting with a double kick into the distracted orog’s chest. It flew away, disappearing under the blueberry bushes, and did not reappear.

  Danica was back up and running in an instant.

  “I’ll cut ye a path!” Ivan promised.

  He leaped from the giant, right between two orogs. His axe
whipped left and right, and his promise was quickly fulfilled.

  “Good to see ye, Lady Danica,” Ivan said, offering his gnarly hand.

  They went back up together, joining Pikel as he clobbered the last orog. New enemies were not far behind, but the mixed band of humanoids found their ranks thinned as they charged. Arrows soared out from the tree line, scoring hit after hit.

  “Shayleigh,” Danica explained to the admiring dwarves.

  “Glad she’s on our side,” Ivan remarked. Even as he spoke, another arrow soared out, hitting a goblin in the side of the head and dropping it dead on the spot.

  “We cannot stay here for long,” Danica told the brothers. “The area is in turmoil. Goblins and giants are everywhere, it seems!”

  “How are the trees doing?” Ivan asked.

  “Yeah,” Pikel concurred excitedly.

  “The trees have caused tremendous losses to our enemies,” Danica answered. “But they are few, and fewer still since several have been brought down and several more battle the fires our enemies have started. The elves are scattered, and many, I fear, are dead.”

  “To the woods, then!” Ivan bellowed.

  He leaped down again and charged into the approaching host, swinging so ferociously that more monsters turned and fled than remained to fight him. Danica nearly laughed aloud, and she pulled out her daggers, whipped them into the nearest target, and charged down, Pikel going right beside her, to join Ivan.

  They were back under the trees in moments.

  Cadderly loaded his last explosive dart as he came through the other side of Tintagel’s shimmering gate, carefully laying the wounded elf wizard at his side. He spotted Ragnor and Elbereth in the throes of a titanic struggle just a few yards away.

  He spotted Galladel, too, dead in the dirt at their feet.

  Cadderly had no doubt as to where he wanted to place his last dart, and told himself that he would feel no remorse for blowing a large hole in Ragnor’s ugly face.

  A charging bugbear changed Cadderly’s plans.

  The young scholar had no time to think, he just swung around and popped the dart into the hairy monster’s belly when it was only a stride away. The bugbear lurched violently and stumbled past, tumbling face down in the dirt.

  Cadderly looked to Tintagel, lying helpless and writhing in agony. He wanted to tend to the elf wizard, to get the spear out of Tintagel’s side at least, but he saw clearly that Elbereth could not hold out for long against the powerful ogrillon.

  “I vowed that I would die beside you,” the young scholar whispered.

  He thought for a moment of searching his pack, of getting out the flask of oil of impact and trying to load another dart, but realized that he had no time. Reluctantly, Cadderly dropped his useless crossbow and took up his walking stick and spindle-disks, thinking them ridiculous against a foe as obviously powerful as Ragnor. He reiterated his vow to Elbereth one last time and charged in beside the elf prince.

  “Why are you here?” Elbereth demanded breathlessly when Cadderly rushed up. The elf ducked a quick cut of Ragnor’s heavy sword, one of the few offensive strikes the ogrillon had taken.

  Cadderly understood immediately the course the fight had taken. Elbereth was plainly tired, couldn’t even seem to catch his breath, and Ragnor showed a dozen nicks and scratches, none of them deep or serious.

  “I said I would fight beside you,” Cadderly replied.

  He stepped ahead, motioned with his walking stick, and threw out his spindle-disks. Ragnor blocked the attack with his forearm, curiously eyeing the strange but hardly effective weapon.

  “You have powerful allies, elf prince,” the ogrillon laughed derisively.

  Cadderly struck again with the spindle-disks, and the ogrillon didn’t even bother to throw up his arm, taking the blow squarely on the chest and laughing all the while.

  Then Elbereth came on wickedly, his fine sword darting to and fro, and sometimes straight ahead. Ragnor showed considerable respect for that weapon, and while the ogrillon was fully engaged, Cadderly grabbed his walking stick in both hands and connected on Ragnor’s elbow.

  The ogrillon winced in pain. “You will die slowly for that!” he promised Cadderly, while furiously parrying Elbereth’s cunning stabs and slashes. “Slowly.…”

  Cadderly looked to his weapons as if they had deceived him. He knew he couldn’t really hurt Ragnor, no matter how clean his blow, but he knew, too, for Elbereth’s sake, that he must try to do something.

  He waited and watched the fight’s ebb and flow, staying back in the hope that Ragnor would pay him even less attention over the next few moments.

  If Ragnor was at all concerned about the young scholar, the ogrillon didn’t show it.

  Elbereth’s blade spun in circles around Ragnor’s then poked ahead, into the ogrillon’s arm. Ragnor growled, but if Elbereth was the faster swordsman, Ragnor was the tougher. The ogrillon went on the offensive, repeatedly hacking with his huge broadsword. He connected on Elbereth’s shield, the sheer force of the blow splitting it and throwing Elbereth to the ground.

  Cadderly knew he had to act then or watch the elf prince be cut apart. He dropped his walking stick to the ground and yelled wildly, taking two steps toward Ragnor and leaping onto the ogrillon’s arm. The young scholar caught hold stubbornly, his arms around the ogrillon’s neck and both of his legs locked tightly around one of Ragnor’s.

  Cadderly was neither a small man nor a weak one, but powerful Ragnor hardly swayed from his path toward the elf. The ogrillon glanced to the side incredulously, and Cadderly hung on for all his life.

  Ragnor would have finished Cadderly then, except that Elbereth jumped back to his feet and wasted no time in returning to the attack. With Cadderly clutching and tugging and generally distracting Ragnor, Elbereth’s cunning maneuvers scored even more hits.

  “Off!” the ogrillon howled.

  He drove Elbereth back with a vicious flurry then slipped his free arm around Cadderly’s, breaking the young scholar’s grip. Ragnor’s strength was frightening indeed, and a moment later, Cadderly found himself flying through the air.

  TWENTY-THREE

  BETWEEN A DWARF AND A HARD PLACE

  Back in the shadows of the trees, Ivan and Pikel hardly had trouble finding enemies. Goblins and orcs popped up from the undergrowth all around them, drooling and hungry for battle.

  True to their dwarf heritage, the Bouldershoulder brothers promptly went berserk, clubbing and slicing with wild abandon, and though they had been fighting steadily for some time, neither showed any signs of weariness. Goblins flew every which way, launched by Pikel’s heavy club, and Ivan, with a mighty overhead chop, sliced one orc nearly in half.

  Through all the fury of that first melee, Danica rested back behind the brothers, gathering her energy for when she would inevitably be needed. Cadderly dominated the young woman’s thoughts in that lull. Danica had found no time before that to consider where the young scholar might be and she feared he’d met a gruesome end. Her duty was clear to her, though, and she would not sway from it. More than ever, Danica had to trust in Cadderly to take care of himself, had to keep her focus on the desperate struggle for Shilmista.

  No matter how many times Danica reminded herself of that fact, her heart still longed to find Cadderly.

  The last orc’s head flew off into the bushes. In the respite, Ivan turned and noticed the despair in Danica’s almond eyes.

  “Don’t ye worry, lass,” the dwarf told her. “We’ll save ye a few in the next fight.”

  Danica’s face crinkled at the words, revealing to the dwarf that he’d misjudged the source of her sadness.

  “It’s yer Cadderly, then,” Ivan guessed. “Where’d that one get himself off to, anyhow?”

  “I left him,” Danica admitted, looking back over her shoulder to the west, toward Syldritch Trea.

  A boulder plummeted through the tree branches, narrowly missing the three companions. In response, one arrow after another flew out from th
e side, zipping back in the direction of the berry bushes.

  “Giant!” Shayleigh called, appearing from her hiding spot and stringing yet another arrow. “I’ve hit it three times, but still it comes on!”

  She drew back and fired, and the companions watched the arrow fly through the leafy tangle to thud into what seemed like a moving mountain. Another huge form shifted beside the first.

  “Two giants!” Ivan bellowed with excitement.

  Danica grabbed Ivan and Pikel, as they started past her on their way to engage the giants.

  “No doubt with a host of escorts beside them,” the fiery young woman explained. “Don’t be so foolish,” she scolded. “You’re much too valuable to us—to me.”

  “Oh,” Pikel replied rather sadly.

  Shayleigh popped another arrow into the approaching giants then caught up with Danica and the dwarves.

  “We must be gone quickly,” Shayleigh said.

  “You three go on,” Danica bade them. “I’ll search for Cadderly.”

  “The priest is with Tintagel,” Shayleigh replied. “Fear not, for if any can keep him safe in the fight, it is the wizard.”

  The news did brighten Danica’s mood. Knowing that Cadderly was beside one as seasoned and wise as Tintagel eased her fears that her love had been abandoned to make his way alone in that forest of horrors.

  “The four of us, then,” Danica offered with determination.

  “Oo oi!” was Pikel’s reply.

  “Woe to any monsters that cross our path!” Shayleigh vowed.

  She spun and launched another arrow at the mass of approaching giants, just for good luck, and together the fighting foursome sprinted off into the shadows, formulating plans as they went.

  Without his shield, Elbereth could only grasp his sword hilt in both hands to deflect Ragnor’s mighty blows. The ogrillon was finished with defense, determined to end the fight and move on to fresh kills. He cut a two-handed swipe straight across at Elbereth’s chest, stepping into the blow so that the elf couldn’t back away and would have to use his sword to parry.